Disclaimer: I’m not bashing people who shop at Walmart. I’m bashing Walmart itself (and inconsiderate people who happen to patronize Walmart). You have billions of dollars, Walton family. Do better.

In concept, a Walmart Supercenter is a great idea. You can get your food, home goods, car stuff, and toys all in one place?! And at reasonable prices? Hot damn! 

So, you decide to go to one. Most likely, you go on a weekend because that’s the only time you have available to go. Unfortunately, that’s what everyone and their grandma had to do as well. So, when you get to the parking lot, it’s packed. Not only are you trying to find a parking spot before the asshole in the Hummer does, there’s also the people who park in front of the building at a weird angle to let out their elderly parent/spouse/whatever. Sometimes those people just STAY THERE while the other person shops and ignore the honking and yelling from the people they’re inconveniencing. Chances are, if you go on a weekend or a weekday afternoon, you’ll need to park so far back in the parking lot, any carts you bring back there will trigger the “DON’T STEAL THE CARTS” lock on the wheels.

After securing your spot in the Thunderdome parking lot, you make your way inside. If you’re as unlucky as I have been with my last few Walmart trips, you find that there are no carts available. None inside and none in the cart corrals outside. ALL the carts are being used. By this point, you would only grab what you can carry in your arms, or you would just give up and go to Aldi or something. But, behold! After waiting several minutes, a friendly cart wrangler drops off a bunch of carts that were strewn around the parking lot because people can’t fucking put the carts in the corrals. Finally, you can start shopping.

Along the way, you may notice some things that are off, unpleasant, or just plain gross. Clothes from the clothing section being all over the floor? That’s a given. Someone put a tub of ice cream or a rotisserie chicken near the Barbie dolls? Naturally. The bathroom being a fucking biohazard zone? Yup. But, have you ever just gone into a section of Walmart and someone just decided to take a man-sized shit on the floor?

I have.

After you finish picking what you need, you make your way to the long ass row of check out lines. Many stand-up routines have referenced how there are only 5 open checkout lines out of more than 20. The lines to check out, as a result, are weaving into other sections and around corners. Since everyone has dozens of items in their carts, you’ll be there a while. But be vigilant! You look at your phone too long and someone will jack your spot in line.

After you check out, you then must return to the parking lot to brave the throngs of carts, screaming kids, and frustrated parents. As you load up your car and try to escape this portal to the nether regions, you wonder why you put up with this every few weeks. Your mind goes to the prices. There aren’t many places around that offer what you need at affordable prices, or everything you need for the house all in one place. You think briefly on how you would run things differently if you were Doug McMillon, or any of the members of the Walton family. But, you return to your senses, start up the car and head home, with a sense of both accomplishment for completing an error, and mental tiredness from seeing a Karen scream at the deli worker for not cutting her turkey slices thin enough.